Page 42 of Blitz
Coach nodded. The press smiled politely. “As you know I’m a man of action. I prefer to let my deeds speak for me most of the time. I’ve always felt that a man is best judged by the things that he holds most dear. For me that has always been football, my family, and my friends. Oh, and dogs, kids, cats, and a few otherdozen or so charities. See, I know I got it good. And those who are able to help those in need should. And so, I have. And I plan to continue donating my time and money to those charities after I hang up my cleats at the end of this season.”
The press murmured. No one was really shocked to hear me say that. I cleared my throat, looked right at the cameras from several local stations. I wagered the folks wearing lanyards would be a little more wide-eyed after my next announcement.
“Also, I would like to thank my family, my friends, and the coaches that I’ve known over the years for teaching me how important it is to be honest, not only with yourself, but with the world.” I laid my phone down on the table before drawing in a breath, then letting it all go. “After hiding it for my entire life, I have reached a point where I’m tired of hiding who I am. I’ll be playing my final season with no more lies clinging to my back. I’ll be playing this season as an out gay man. I ask that you respect me, my family, and the team as we head into our first game with a newfound unity and acceptance for every player who calls this organization family.”
It took a second for the words to sink in. Then a thousand questions flew at me, but I was already leaving the press room. I was not answering stupid questions. Ty met me in the locker room with a hug that squished the breath from my lungs.
“You did great. So proud of you, man,” he said as he squeezed a bit harder before letting go.
I smiled stupidly at the others as they all angled in to ruffle my hair, pat my back, or shake my hand. We had a few moments to talk amongst ourselves before we headed to the owner’s box for lunch. A massive spread had been ordered in from the finest eatery on Walnut Street, featuring food that our nutritionist was surely not going to be pleased about. The buffet line formed quickly. I was jabbering with Ty and a few others when my phone gave my butt a buzz.
It was Trick. “Hey, I need to wash up. Don’t let Pompano eat all the crab cakes.”
The guys laughed. I slipped out of the luxury box and into the nearest bathroom. A unisex toilet that seemed to be quiet for the moment. No way was I going to talk to Trick where anyone could hear me. I pushed in and came face-to-face with Tucker. Well shit. I pocketed my phone and plastered on my most engaging smile.
“Glad to see you could make it. Luterman sprang for prime rib,” I said and got a look of pure hatred.
“Did you see the sign on the door?” He looked pretty tight; I could see the tension in his massive shoulders.
“I did.”
“Unisex.” He spat on the floor beside my spiffy new leather Berluti sneaker. “That’s what having a fag on the team brings. Unisex. Men and women sharing the same toilets. It’s disgusting, and you are an abomination. I want you to know that decent people do not celebrate a man who fornicates with other men. I will not speak to you or acknowledge your existence, and I shall pray that you get the end that you deserve.”
“Well, Bubba, you do what you need to do, just don’t slather your hateful shit all over my front door, or I will come after you and it won’t be pretty.”
“As if I’m scared of a pansy like you.”
“Be scared or don’t be, just keep to your side of the street, and I’ll stay on mine.”
“This team is disgusting for allowing a deviate like you anywhere near good decent men. Don’t let me catch you looking at me in the shower.”
I snorted in amusement. “As if I would want to peek at your shriveled-up dick. We all know how you got so big, Tucker.”
His lip curled. “Fag.”
He slammed his shoulder into mine as he thundered out of the door. I stood there for a moment, rubbed my shoulder, then pulled some paper towels from the dispenser to clean up the spittle on the floor so whoever came in after me didn’t end up on their ass.
I took a moment to reflect on myself in the mirror over the sinks. Funny how I felt the same as I had when he thought I was straight, yet he now hated me solely on who I loved. Guess that made as little sense as not liking a person based on their skin tone or religion. Hatred made no sense no matter what kind or how you looked at it.
Shaking off the explosion of loathing that had slapped me in the face, I rested my ass against a spotless white porcelain sink and tugged my phone free. The text from Trick was short but heartfelt.
Pucky Brewster: Great speech. Now go out there and show them what kind of chaos a gay football player can bring about.
I thought about texting something stupid back, but I needed to hear his voice to help anchor me in the reality that while some would spit at me, others would embrace me. I’d known I’d get some flack but being spat at and called a slur within an hour of my presser was a bit much.
So, I whispered a prayer to whoever listened to gorillas in cleats that he would be cool talking to me right now. I dialed and I waited for what seemed an eternity for him to pick up.
“Come on, Trick, answer the damn phone.”
FIFTEEN
Trick
I answered the phone immediately.
“Tom,” I said, and my voice came out raspy, as if I’d been holding my breath. Maybe I had been. I’d been glued to my phone since the press conference began, watching the livestream with my heart in my throat. “You did it.”
“Yeah,” he exhaled, and I could hear the mix of relief and tension in his voice. “I did.”
